


a familiar face (but you never knew me)

by rarmaster



Series: my body is an orphanage [3]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8166713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarmaster/pseuds/rarmaster
Summary: Sora -- with Ven and Xion in tow, in the back of his mind -- gets some help from a stranger. Wait no, she looks pretty familiar. Except, wait a minute....(Or: My Body Is An Orphanage meets the Repliqua AU because, why not)





	

**Author's Note:**

> someone on tumblr was like "ok but what if Repliqua met MBIAO" and i was like ACTUALLY I'D BEEN THINKING ABOUT THAT, so, here we are
> 
> not explicitly canon within either of the AUs
> 
> also Xion's nickname (Shia) has not been introduced in MBIAO before this but the short of the decision for it: she just said shorter parts of her name til Ven could hear it and he slapped this together. It's fine.

“Hey, those Heartless cleared out a lot faster than I thought they would,” Sora said, largely to himself, but also to the voices—the people—resting within his heart.

‘ _See, you’re a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for,_ ’ Ven told him, chipper and encouraging in a way that reminded Sora of his older cousins. When, uh, his cousins were being _nice_ and not picking on him, anyway.

‘ _Or we had help,_ ’ Shia said.

‘ _Shia, come on, let Sora take some credit!’_

Sora laughed to himself, debating on whether or not he should butt in or just let them keep arguing, but then he saw… someone. A figure in the distance.

“You know, Ven… maybe Shia’s right,” he said. He moved forward, quickly, kicking up the purple dust around them. He hadn’t seen whoever this was around Hollow Bastion before, but he was grateful for the help anyway.

‘ _Careful,_ ’ Shia’s voice. ‘ _She’s wearing an Organization cloak. She might be…_ Oh.’

A sharp note of surprise reverberated through Shia as Sora drew closer, getting a better look. It was a woman, in a black cloak, banishing a blade and looking for sure like she’d been fighting, not just standing around. His eyes started to narrow, wary of any Organization member—but then a sharper, stronger, overwhelming feeling of surprise flooded him as Ven took in her blue hair, the shape of her face as she turned to greet them.

“ _Aqua_!?” the name flew from Sora’s mouth, a tight grip on his chest.

Sora did not recognize the name, but Ven did, _Ven did._

Tears burned hot against the back of his eyes, and something between surprise and fear and relief and—something else there was something else—boiled in his chest, all these feelings boiled in his chest. Sora would peg most of them to Ven, but it was hard to tell, it was always hard to tell exactly where to draw the lines between the three of them.

The woman—Aqua— _except that didn’t feel right—_ turned to them, surprise written across her face as well.

“Sora…!” she looked almost, a little fearful, and a lot confused. (Sora did not have time to wonder how she knew his name.) “How do you know… I mean. I’m… Listen, I’m not—”

Sora bit his lip to hold in the cries of _Aqua it’s so good to see you I missed you so much_ that Ven wanted to release. Jittering with the responsibility of having to hold all this emotion inside him, really unable to contain every inch of it, Sora bounced on his heels, trying to get his thoughts and the people in his heart straight enough to say something that wouldn’t be embarrassing.

_Ven you can’t she doesn’t know you’re here._

_‘She has to! She can feel hearts, Sora, she has to feel mine—’_

_But Ven, she’s with the Organization—_

_‘She’s AQUA, Sora. Mickey was in one of those coats—’_

_I’m just not sure I want to—_

_‘She’s not Aqua,’_ Shia’s voice broke in, between the volley of words and emotions that were flying back and for the between Sora and Ven.

Ven stopped, abruptly, as if struck.

“My name is Quaxa,” the woman in the cloak spoke, and if Shia’s words were not enough, now Ven was _really_ reeling. “I’m- I don’t know how you could possibly recognize me, because I’ve never met you before, and I don’t think she’s ever met you either, but… I’m not Aqua.”

“What—”

Gripped strongly by Ven’s surprise, the word slipped from Sora’s mouth.

“I don’t know if… If Mickey told you something,” the woman—Aqua— _Quaxa_ —continued, looking very much like she did not wish to be having this conversation. “But I’m not her. I’ve never been her.”

Inside of Sora, Ven shook his head hard, refusing to believe it. ‘ _That doesn’t make any—’_

 _‘She’s a Replica,’_ Shia explained, beating with a firm impatience. Sora had to take deep breaths to keep hold of himself in the whirlwind of emotions that churned inside him. ( _Replica what’s a Replica haven’t I heard that term before—)_ ‘ _The Organization made her to use Aqua’s Keyblade, but she’s not actually…’_

“Sora?” Quaxa’s voice.

Sora shook his head and blinked to clear it. She had not moved any closer, but now she peered at him, concerned.

“Is... Are you alright?” Quaxa asked.

“I- fine,” Sora said, forcing a smile onto his face. “Sorry. It’s a lot to take in.” This was a familiar pattern, now that he had Ven and Shia constantly active inside him, but it was a good thing he’d always been known as a little spacey.

Quaxa didn’t look so sure, but Sora smiled brightly at her—this time, it wasn’t forced.

“Hey, thanks for the help with the Heartless, by the way!” he told her.

“I… oh.” Quaxa seemed a little surprised. “It was nothing. Just… doing what I’m good at.” She smiled, but there was a stiffness in it, as well as in the way she stood. Belatedly, she seemed to realize something. “You, uh... You don’t need to worry, by the way. I know I’m wearing the cloak, but—”

“You left the Organization,” Sora finished for her, before he’d really thought about it.

Quaxa frowned at him. “How did you know?”

“I- oh.” Sora realized now that there was no way he _should_ have known. _Shia?_ He asked, tentatively. _That your fault?_

 _‘I knew that, yeah,’_ Shia answered. ‘ _Quaxa and I were… friends, sort of. Not as close as me ‘n Roxas ‘n Axel were, but…’_

_Should I tell her?_

_‘You can. I trust her.’_

_‘Can someone PLEASE tell me what’s going ON,’_ Ven demanded, confusion and desperation coming strongly off of him. Sora felt bad, but there was nothing _he_ could do. So he let Shia try and explain while he did his best to keep Quaxa from getting too weirded out.

“Okay, so…” Sora began, trying to find the words to start. Shia had mentioned Roxas knew Quaxa, too? Maybe that was a good place to start. Especially since no one could remember Shia, and he doubted Quaxa was excluded from that. “You know how me and Roxas, um.”

He got caught there, though. What word to use for it?

He didn’t have to. Understanding—as well as a pang of sadness, which brought a pang to Sora’s chest ( _he hadn’t asked for this_ )—passed Quaxa’s face.

“Oh,” she said. “Do you have his memories?”

“Uh…” Sora paused, scratching at his neck. She was on the right track. “Something like that…”

 _Should I leave it at that?_ he asked his companions. _Guess that’s all the explanation she REALLY needs…_

 _‘Y- yeah…’_ Shia agreed, slowly. ‘ _It’s not like she would have remembered me, even if we did tell her I was in here.’_

Her sadness flowed through Sora, overwhelming for a moment, before she caught hold of it and pulled it away from him.

 _Do… you want me to ask anyway?_ Sora offered. It was the least he could do.

_‘I…’_

She didn’t get the chance to answer.Quaxa cleared her throat, then. A familiar— _well, Ven recognized it_ —expression crossed her face. She wasn’t satisfied with something Sora had said. She wanted more answers.

“I… maybe I shouldn’t,” she said, with a tone that implied she was going to anyway. “But… You having Roxas’s memories doesn’t explain why…” She hesitated, here. “Why you called me Aqua, and not- not my name. Roxas would have known.”

“Sorry!” Sora apologized, immediately. If there was anything he understood, it was the discomfort of being called the wrong name.

 _Can I tell her about you, Ven?_ he asked hastily, trying not to delay too long.

Ven shrugged. ‘ _Might as well. Don’t see what harm it could do.’_

“It’s just, um,” Sora said to Quaxa. “It’s more than I have Roxas’s memories.” It was weird to speak only of Roxas, especially since he hadn’t even _talked_ to him, but currently the easiest. “He’s like… inside of me.  I can talk to him- I mean, I don’t, because he doesn’t want to. But I can. And- And it’s more than just him in here, too.”

He wanted to mention Shia next—Shia’s desire or his own, he wasn’t sure—but no. Quaxa had asked about Ven. He had to mention Ven, first.

“I’ve got… Ven, in here,” Sora said, tapping idly at his chest. He licked his lips nervously, watching Quaxa for a reaction (this, he was sure, was something Ven was doing). “You don’t know him, but, he knows Aqua, so… that’s why…”

Quaxa’s eyes grew wide. “Ven…?” came the quiet whisper from her mouth. It made Sora’s—Ven’s—heart turn over in his chest.

Sora nodded. Quaxa turned her head away.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m not Aqua. I never have been. I’m just… a weird echo of her that Xemnas made.”

There was some intense emotion in her voice that Sora could hear, even if he could not understand. He wondered if she felt the same way Roxas did about him. Or maybe it was something else. He wanted to say something, but didn’t get the chance.

She curled her hands into fists, and she turned back to Sora. An apology, as well as soft bitterness, was written in her eyes.

“Sorry. I know it must have been disappointing to see your friend, only to have it turn out to be me.”

“No no, don’t apologize!” Ven was quick to step in and take control of Sora’s mouth, speaking rapidly to assure this woman who looked like his friend. “That’s not your fault. I’m the one should be saying sorry.”

He moved his hands as he spoke, and there must have been something about it or his expression that sparked recognition in Quaxa’s eyes. She knew it was Ven speaking, without him having to say so.

“I really should’ve paid more attention to what Shia was—”

“Shia?” Quaxa interrupted, and now a different kind of recognition sparked in her eyes. A vague, distant kind, like she was trying to put her finger on a memory but couldn’t quite.

“Um, yeah, she’s in here too,” Ven said. “She’s—hang on.”

He slipped out of control. Sora hung back a moment before he grabbed it again, a silent offer going out to Shia.

‘ _No,’_ she said. ‘ _I’ll… You explain.’_

Sora nodded, or conveyed a nod, then took control of his body again.

“Um, Sora again,” he introduced, so Quaxa couldn’t get any wrong ideas. “Shia’s, um, someone else that’s chilling inside me,” he said, with a partial smile, because explaining this was always fun (no, it wasn’t, not really). “She said she knew you.”

Quaxa frowned, slowly shaking her head.

“I definitely don’t remember anyone named Shia,” she said.

“Oh, well! Shia’s not her real name,” Sora explained. “It’s just what we call her, because, um… Well, something happened to her.” Shia shifted inside of him, a tight ball of discomfort. Sora licked his lips, and then went out on a limb: “Here, I’ll let her say her name real quick. Maybe you’ll have better luck than me ‘n Ven.”

Quaxa made a face, but Sora didn’t pay much attention, already directing his attention inwards.

_Shia? Come on._

_‘She’s not going to remember, Sora.’_

_If we ask everyone who ever knew you, maybe one of them will._

_‘I doubt it.’_

_Shia please, it can’t hurt to try._

Shia sighed, wrapped in resignation and uncertainty, but she took control anyway. Sora’s mouth formed a word, formed into a shape he could not grasp, would not be able to recall after this moment. It did not matter how hard he tried to hold onto the feeling, the way his mouth moved when she said her name, it slipped from him like sand through his fingers. The sound, still, was static in his ears.

Quaxa blinked.

“Pardon?” she asked, leaning forward a little bit.

A sigh heaved in Sora’s chest, followed by an empty laughter that tasted bitter in his mouth.

“Figures…” Shia whispered, and then she relinquished control.

Sora understood, now, why she hadn’t wanted to. The disappointment was so thick in his chest that he thought it might crush him. Nothing hurt quite as bad as not being able to be remembered by someone who was—who had _once been_ —your friend.

“Something…” Sora tried, but had to stop. Swallow. Force words out around the lump in his throat. “Something happened to her,” he said. “No one can remember her, now, and she can’t tell anyone her name, either.”

Quaxa peered at him, like she wanted still more information than that.

“What happened to her?” she asked.

Sora swallowed again. “She… won’t say,” he answered, and even as he said it, Shia hardened inside of him, clamped down all her memories and knowledge of the event and stashed it somewhere he and Ven could not reach.

Quaxa looked skeptical. Sora coughed.

He supposed that was really all they had to talk about—outside of, maybe, _why_ she had helped with the Heartless anyway—but there was… one more thing he’d like to say. One more thing he’d like to do.

“Hey, Quaxa…” he said, closing his hands and running his thumbs nervously over his knuckles. There was a heaviness in his chest, and a nervousness that made him jittery—both of these feelings were his.

This was hard, but, he had to do it.

He owed it to Quaxa.

And he owed it to Roxas.

“About, um, Roxas,” he continued, and didn’t give her time to interrupt. That would just make this harder. “I’m sorry. I really am. I didn’t- I didn’t ask for what happened. If I’d had a choice…”

But he hadn’t had a choice, the same way Roxas hadn’t had a choice either.

( _The same way Shia hadn’t had a choice,_ something in his brain said. He wasn’t sure if it was true, wasn’t sure if what had happened to her was his fault, too. But he knew if it was, he hadn’t wanted it, either.)

“It’s alright,” Quaxa told him, with a small shake of her head. There was a sadness in her eyes, but a resignation and a resolve in the way she hold herself, as well. “There wasn’t another way.”

Sora shook his head, firmly.

“I don’t think that’s true,” he said. “There’s always another way.”

Quaxa considered him a moment more, and then with a small sigh, she smiled fondly at him.

“You have a good heart, Sora,” she told him. “I think my friends are in good hands, if they’re with you.”

Sora smiled slowly, cheeks feeling warm. That was nice to hear.

Then he realized what Quaxa was doing. She was stepping backwards, away from him, one of those dark portals that the Organization used to get around forming behind her.

“Wait!” Sora said, stepping forward and reaching out to her. “Are you leaving?” He didn’t give her the chance to answer before “You should come with us!” was bursting from his lips.

Quaxa laughed, a hand going up to her mouth to cover it.

“I’d love to,” she said, once she’d composed herself. It was hard to tell if she meant it. “But I need to stay away from the Organization, and traveling with you isn’t exactly the way to do that.”

Sora sighed, hanging his head in disappointment. “I guess that’s fair,” he admitted.

Quaxa laughed again, putting a hand on his head.

( _A memory rushed through him. Green grass and a castle in the distance he recognized as Ven’s home. Aqua laughing, ruffling his hair as he pouted and glared up at her, because this was SERIOUS, and—)_

Quaxa pulled her hand away abruptly before she did any hair-ruffling, discomfort written on her face when Sora looked. She masked it quickly, though.

“Anyway,” she said, moving for her dark corridor. “I should go.”

“Don’t be a stranger,” Sora told her.

Smiling a pained smile, she raised her hand in a wave, and then she was gone.

‘ _I hope we see her again…’_ Shia said, slowly.

‘ _Might be weird,’_ Ven argued.

Sora, though, smiled.

“Yeah,” he said. “I hope so too.”


End file.
